Lucifer, My Light Bringer.

Difficulty.

Smoldering, smothering, black, arbitrary; Difficulty.

Emotions boil and my spirits dampen as I read on towards subjects that seem to fully overwhelm Him.  The fact of the matter is that this wretched sense of insignificance has a far more persuasive effect than the inner encouraging remarks I try to bring Him.

Him, being the Kid.  The Body.  The Brain.  William Kealoha Akana.

That was the label given to this structure of flesh. 

It might not seem obvious but this blog has always been marked to blur the lines between him and myself.  Hence, "Kid Will."

That doesn't make any sense Will; it's as if you're trying to seem crazy.

I'll let you in on yet another theory I've come to recognize through my readings of historical writers and philosophers.  Every taste of an idea I've had has had a fully grown explanation by men who lived hundreds of years before myself.   Upon reading their theories and beliefs I came to identify with one particular writer:  William Blake.  It was astonishing at how similar our convictions were.  Here I was, thinking I was a fool to think myself as God, yet he brings upon a similar land of reason to suggest the same.  Specifically, that is not the topic I intend to elaborate on, but rather, to explore his explanations of Body and Soul.

Taken from a work of his:

The Voice of The Devil

Man has two real existing principles; Viz: a Body & a Soul.
That Energy, called Evil, is alone from the Body, & that Reason, called Good, is alone from the Soul. 

This paradigm is perfect. 

Within the past months, I came to the conclusion (prior to reading Blake's principles) that the Body is a separation of the soul; furthermore, the Mind (Belonging to the Soul) directs and utilizes the Brain (of the Body).

Here, this preserved text reached my person to contribute yet another jigsaw piece to my puzzle.

  I am delighted but disconcerted all the same.  

How strange it is for all these thoughts to arise within me; none original, but preserved over years of thought, pondering, questioning.  

I am a recycled idea.

  I am old.  I am dirt in disguise of a youthful body.  But this does not make me any wiser.  It only frustrates me.  This difficult smog I attempt to swim through, hindered by vain attempts to surface and ignorant conceptions brought on by the Kid, myself, my name, who he/me is. 

He gets angry and frustrated too.  I want to read more about philosophy, religion, literature, art, historical memoirs, sciences, everything.  I could read all damned day; never to see any familiar faces nor the rays of the sun for as long as I live.  But Kid wants to play guitar.  Kid wants to waste time on Facebook.  Kid wants to talk to girls.  Kid has a fucking short attention span that won't let me concentrate on my reading nor any of my studies.  This culture has affected him in such a way where he can't tell the difference between what he holds valuable and what others deem important--even necessary.

It makes me sick.
It makes us both sick.

This ambivalence...this broken bridge filled with trivial values by society and technological means of lassitude...this has to have an end point.

Pfft, when are you going to stop playing Mr. Split Personality and just accept growing up?

Because! You bastardly italicized text!  It's much more than that!

I'm beginning to find my true voice more and more everyday.  And it's bringing him to shambles.  I shame him.  All that he's done.  I make him feel worthless.  I expose his faults.  I mock his dreams.  But I'm slowly beginning to learn that though there's so much wrong with him...that's exactly why I'm here.  That's exactly why this soul has slid beneath the skin of what could easily be taken for granted as another teenage boy under circumstances he believes are far beyond his control.  It's not the same, dammit.  And I see it.  I feel it.  There's so much more to everything, and I can only grab at glimpses that seem to elude me every chance I get close.

I'm so close.

I've never been so frustrated with what is.

But I know I'm close.

William Blake writes that if there are no contraries, there is no progression.  He has taken my "Ying Yang Effect" theory and threaded it into something so visible and coherent that it simply fills me with awe and wonder everytime I think about it.

This broken bridge is what makes this challenge worth it, I know.

They say to shun the whispers of Satan.  But how can I shun that evil which allows for my greater good?  How can I squelch the life out of Kid--so inferior and primitive in nature--without ending any possibility for a greater unification between this body, this soul?  These contrasts are what keep me alive.  This difficulty is what gives each discovery a triumphant sense of becoming a whole.  Though I may be superior by nature of reason and Good, all is cast away without the former that He brings; and it's such that that will allow for growth in this new-found life of mine, this new adventure. 

Satan was once Lucifer.

Lucifer was The Light Bringer.

And ironically...

the way I see it...

He still is.